955 
E£B5 


UC-NRLF 


$B    ZMfl    753 


CO 

ft 
CO 

Is- 


Wi)t  gfobentures;  of 
&  parrot 


Harr  p  BtilltotU  €otoarbs 


The  ^Adventures  of  a  Carrot 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/adventuresofparrOOedwarich 


THE 

ADVENTURES  OF 
A  PARROT 

By 
HARRY  STILLWELL  EDWARDS 

AUTHOR  OF 

"TWO  RUNAWAYS."   "HIS  DEFENSE" 
"ENEAS  AFRICANUS."  ETC. 


PUBLISHED    BY 

THE  J.  W.  BURKE  COMPANY 
MACON,  GEORGIA 


Copyright,  1920 
The  J.  W.  Burke  Company 


955 
E&55 

GUj\r 


The  Adventures  of  a  Carrot 

IT  was  a  week  long  to  be  remembered  by 
Helen's  little  boy.  For  the  first  time  he 
was  having  a  house-party.  Without  warning, 
probably  without  intention  older  than  the  day, 
the  major  had  returned  from  Milledgeville 
with  the  great  Worthington  coach  loaded  to 
its  capacity  with  small  boys  and  girls  indus- 
triously gathered  up  about  town  from  families 
known  to  him  for  a  lifetime,  and  to  whom  he 
was  a  never-failing  source  of  interest.  The 
day  ranks  in  the  memory  of  the  staid  old  in- 
habitants with  the  anniversary  of  Lafayette's 
visit,  Henry  Clay's  speech,  the  entry  of  Sher- 
man's army,  and  the  removal  of  the  capital  to 
Atlanta.  For,  be  it  known,  it  had  not  oc- 
curred, in  the  experience  of  any  living  person, 
that  a  Milledgeville  boy  or  girl  had  set  foot 

[5] 


374 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  J| 

in  that  sacred  vehicle,  the  Worthington  coach. 
The  experience  of  the  town  juvenile  had  been 
limited  to  open-mouthed  interest  in  the  vast 
contrivance,  and  a  stampede  when,  the  door 
having  been  flung  wide  open  by  Isam,  the  un- 
folding steps  tumbled  down  to  the  curb  reck- 
lessly, and  ended  their  performance  with  a 
defiant  snap.  It  was  a  distinct  local  sensation 
when  the  major  began  to  drive  about  town 
among  the  old  residences  and  inquire  for  chil- 
dren; and  many  were  the  stories  that  ema- 
nated from  the  occasion,  to  be  told  over  hard- 
wood fires,  wine,  and  walnuts  in  the  years  to 
come.  One  of  these  w7ill  serve  to  illustrate 
the  nature  of  the  major's  difficulties. 

uDe  major's  compliments  ter  de  missus," 
said  Isam,  standing  between  the  columns  of 
Mrs.  Throckmorton's  old  home,  uan'  he  say 
won't  she  please,  ma'am,  let  de  chillun  come 
erlong  wid  'im  an'  stay  out  yonner  ter  Wood- 
haven  wid  Miss  Helen's  little  boy  er  few 
days." 

[6] 


g|  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

Old  Mrs.  Throckmorton  came  to  the  door, 
adjusting  her  lace  cap  and  spectacles,  her  chin 
in  the  air. 

"Why,  bless  my  soul,  Isam,"  she  said, 
elbowing  the  housemaid  aside,  "whose  chil- 
dren is  your  master  talking  about  ?" 

"Don't  know,  ma'am;  just  any  what  might 
be  lyin'  roun'  loose  'bout  de  house,  I  reck'n." 

The  major  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  coach 
window,  and  called : 

"Good  morning,  ma'am!  Your  most  obe- 
dient! Want  to  borrow  the  children  a  few 
days,  ma'am.  Helen  will  take  good  care  of 
them,  and  I  shall  personally  return — " 

"Why,  Major  Worthington,  what  are  you 
thinking  about?    I  have  no  children!" 

"Is  it  possible?  Why,  madam,  you  used  to 
have — and  the  prettiest  I  ever  saw." 

Mrs.  Throckmorton  laughed,  with  her 
hands  on  her  sides,  and  then  got  out  her  hand- 
kerchief. 

"Why,    you    dear    absurd   man,    that   was 

[7] 


Ill  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

years  and  years  ago !  I  have  grandchildren. 
John  has  three  little  girls,  and  Lucy  has  a  boy 
and  a  girl — " 

"Good!  Up  this  street  somewhere,  I  be- 
lieve. Drive  on,  Aleck.  Madam,  your  most 
obedient!  By  the  way,  ma'am,  do  you  know 
of  any  more  in  the  neighborhood  ?" 

Mrs.  Throckmorton  was  laughing  and  cry- 
ing by  turns. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  waving  her  hand;  "I'll  tell 
Isam  about  them." 

"Your  most  obedient,  ma'am!"  And  so  it 
was  the  major  gathered  his  house-party. 

The  old  coach  never  delivered  happier 
faces  at  Woodhaven  than  greeted  Helen 
when,  astonished  at  the  tumult  in  the  yard  at 
dusk,  she  ran  down  the  steps  and  one  by  one 
lifted  out  the  excited  visitors. 

It  is  not  purposed  to  follow  the  fortunes  of 
the  borrowed  juveniles  during  their  stay  at 
Woodhaven.  Those  were  days,  indeed,  full  of 
rapture,  and  garnished  with  egg-hunts,  garret 

[8] 


IH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

games,  antique  toys,  and  stories  told  while  the 
blue  flames  hovered  over  the  smoldering  oak 
log  when  the  evening  was  chilly.  It  is  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  the  supreme  hero,  the  friend 
of  every  youngster,  the  vade-mecum  of  each 
child,  was  admittedly  the  smiling  little  old 
negro  Isam,  full  of  cunning  inventions  to 
amuse  and  a  marvelous  fund  of  adventures. 

So  it  is  not  surprising  that  one  day  when  he 
had  rolled  the  great  coach  into  the  yard  under 
the  shade  of  the  elms,  where  he  could  reach 
the  faucet  by  the  porch  conveniently,  and  was 
cheerily  removing  the  Baldwin  County  clay 
from  the  running-gear,  he  should  have  had  the 
whole  party  about  his  ears.  The  little  girls 
beamed  through  the  windows  of  the  coach, 
playing  at  visiting,  while  on  the  seat  above 
outside,  and  on  the  one  between  the  great 
carved  leather  springs  behind,  the  boys  gave 
imitations  of  coachmen,  footmen,  and  tiger. 
On  the  porch,  level  with  them,  and  but  little 
above  the  head  of  the  cheery  old  negro,  the 

[9] 


HI  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

major  was  throned  in  his  chair  as  usual,  and 
near  him  was  Helen,  with  a  few  of  the  older 
Milledgeville  folks,  who  had  dropped  in  for 
the  day  to  look  after  the  children  and  to  re- 
plenish their  wardrobes.  A  sympathetic  re- 
mark from  one  of  these  concerning  Isam's 
prodigious  task  gave  the  old  fellow's  conver- 
sation a  new  drift,  and  before  he  realized  it 
he  was  arousing  a  general  interest. 

"Yes'm,"  he  said;  "hit's  er  sho-'nough  job 
ter  wash  dis  hyah  ole  care-edge.  F'om  fus  ter 
las'  I  'spec'  hit's  mighty  nigh  on  ter  er  half- 
mile  erroun',  an'  worse  ef  you  tek  er  short  cut 
unner,  fer  de  mud  hangs  heavy  at  de  bottom. 
But  hit  don't  happ'n  often.  Marse  Craffud 
is  er  po'  han'  ter  ramble  roun'  much  nower- 
days.  Ef  folks  got  business  wid  him  dey  got 
ter  come  hyah.  Ef  hit  warn't  fer  de  ole  ladies 
'bout  de  kentry  what  knows  es  judgment  is 
good,  an'  keep  er-sendin'  fer  'im  ter  come 
erlong  an'  'dvise  dey-all,  reck'n  we'd  des  nat- 
chully  lay  roun'  an'  go  ter  seed." 

[10] 


Jj!  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

The  children  were  not  yet  listening,  but  the 
older  company  smiled  amiably,  and  one  sweet- 
voiced  lady  dropped  the  busy  man  an  encour- 
aging remark  touching  the  major's  far-famed 
courtesy. 

"Yes'm;  Marse  Craffud  is  de  bes'  in  de  Ian' 
when  hit  comes  ter  passin'  de  time  o'  day  wid 
er  lady.  I  heah  'im  say  de  bes'  way  ter  give 
er  woman  good  'dvice  is  ter  fus  find  out  des 
what  she  wants  ter  do,  an'  den  tell  'er  ter  do 
hit." 

The  major  laughed  with  the  others  at  this; 
but  perhaps  he  alone  noticed  that  Isam's  re- 
mark, begun  on  one  side  of  the  coach,  was 
finished  on  the  other. 

"Ole  Mis'  Tomlinson,"  continued  the 
negro,  "sen'  for  'im  ter  come,  an'  she  say  as 
how  de  Ian'  joinin'  ter  her  is  fer  sale,  an'  she 
don't  know  des  what  is  bes'  ter  do.  Marse 
Craffud  size  her  up  quick  an'  say:  'Buy — buy, 
of  course !  Why,  madam,  dey  ain't  no  better 
place  ter  put  yo'  money.    Some  years  hit  don't 

[u] 


Ill  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

pay  much,  but  Ian'  don't  git  erway  f'om  you. 
Hit's  alius  right  dere.'  An'  ole  Mis'  Lamkin 
sen'  fer  'im,  an'  say  she  done  been  offered 
good  price  for  some  outlayin'  patches.  Marse 
Craffd  up  an'  say, — 'cause  he  knowed  money 
was  scyarce  wid  her, — 'Sell — by  all  means, 
sell,  madam.  Hit's  er  bad  plan  ter  be  lan'-po' ; 
an'  ef  you  sell  some,  you  can  mek  de  balance 
do  better.'  " 

The  major  took  his  foot  off  the  balustrade 
and  reached  for  his  stick;  but  Isam  was  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  coach,  and  very  busy. 

"Let  him  go  on,  major,"  said  one  of  the 
ladies,  laughing;  "we  are  greatly  interested. 
Some  day  we  may  need  your  advice." 

"Yes'm,"  continued  Isam,  apparently  ignor- 
ant of  the  by-play;  ubut  one  day  we  got  word 
f'om  ole  Mis'  Sykes  ter  please  come  over  an' 
she'd  be  proud  ter  have  er  talk  wid  us  on  busi- 
ness. Now  dis  was  noos  ter  ev'ybody,  'cause 
ole  Mis'  Sykes  don't  set  much  store  by  dis 
hyah  settlement.    Some  time  back  she  let  out 

[12] 


JH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

dat  in  her  'pinion  de  place  was  right  'longside 
er  de  broad  road  ter — "  Isam  wrung  out  the 
sponge  and  glanced  toward  the  children. 
"Well,  Marse  Craffud  sont  word  back  dat  he 
liked  de  stand  he  had  'cause  hit  give  him  er 
chance  ter  see  de  las'  of  so  many  pious  friends, 
an'  some  dat  wan't;  an'  ole  Mis'  Sykes  she 
took  dis  ter  mean  ole  man  Sykes,  what  died 
of  er  'speriment  wid  er  noo  way  ter  mix  es 
toddy.  F'om  dat  dey  she  ain'  so  much  as  pass 
de  house  widout  pullin'  de  care-edge  curt'ins 
down.  Dat's  huccum  I  say  hit  was  noos  ter 
ev'ybody  when  she  sont  word  of  her  wantin' 
ter  talk  business  wid  we-all.  An'  now,  ef  you 
ladies  want  ter  heah  'bout  dat  trip,  an'  de  par- 
rot over  dere,  I  reck'n  I  des  'bout  got  time  ter 
'splain  it." 

Isam  nodded  his  head  toward  the  major, 
who  laughed  aloud  and  began  to  stuff  his  pipe. 
The  children  heard  the  word  "parrot,"  and 
scrambled  eagerly  over  to  Isam's  side  of  the 
coach.    The  old  man  shot  a  quick  glance  to- 

[13] 


j||        the  adventures  of  a  parrot        H 

ward  his  master,  and  opened  the  coach  door, 
letting  the  steps  roll  down. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "ef  you  little  girls  want 
ter  heah  'bout  dis  hyah  parrot,  des  set  up  an' 
down  hyah  an'  wait  tell  I  kinder  work  up  de 
p'int,  which  ain't  goin'  ter  tek  long.  No, 
ma'am,  we  warn't  'spectin'  ter  heah  f'om  ole 
Mis'  Sykes,  but  me  an'  Aleck  got  out  dis  hyah 
care-edge  an'  put  off  wid  Marse  Craffud  for 
her  house.  We  got  dere  safe  an'  soun',  an' 
foun'  her  stannin'  at  de  top  er  de  step  wid  'er 
bes'  lace  cap  an'  black  dress,  an'  smilin'  like 
hit  done  her  so  much  good  ter  see  us  at  las.' 
Marse  Craffud  he  tip  es  hat  an'  say,  'Madam, 
yo'  most  obedient !'  an'  work  es  way  up  ter  de 
po'ch,  while  I  drap  down  'bout  ha'f-way  an' 
wait  for  ter  see  what  de  game  was.  Ole  Mis' 
Sykes  she  smile  an'  shake  'er  two  curls  an' 
say  as  how  hit  was  mighty  good  of  us  ter  come. 
An'  Marse  Craffud  talk  back  des  as  perlite, 
an'  say,  'Don't  mention  hit!  De  pleasure  is 
ours.'    An'  wid  dat  he  drap  inter  er  po'ch 

[14] 


JH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

rocker  an'  tek  er  long  bref.  Mis'  Sykes  looks 
like  her  conscience  hurt  her  'bout  somep'n', 
an'  she  say  hit  pains  her  so  much  ter  put  we- 
all  ter  so  much  trouble.  An'  Marse  Craffud 
bow  as  low  as  he  could  wid  him  er-settin'  down 
an'  say:  'Madam,  yo'  mos'  obedient!  Hit's  er 
pleasure  ter  serve  you,  madam.'  An'  wid  dat 
he  begun  ter  fan  wid  es  hat.  Erbout  dis  time 
I  got  de  shock  er  my  life.  Somep'n'  right  over 
my  head  up  an'  say : 

u  'Oh,  sister,  what  is  it?  Where  did  you 
find  it?' 

"Bless  God!  but  I  jumped  up,  an'  dere  sot 
de  ugliest  bird  my  eye  ever  fell  on — an'  de 
fines',  too.  When  I  look  in  es  eye  an'  face, 
my  scalp  feel  like  hit  done  been  fros'-bit;  but 
when  I  look  at  es  jacket,  hit  was  des  natchully 
de  prettiest — Lord!  but  de  peafowl  warn't 
nowhar!  Green  an'  gol'  an'  red,  an'  es  tail 
droppin'  straight  down  erbout  two  foot!  I 
stop  erbout  ha'f-way  ter  de  gate,  an'  see  ole 
Mis'  Sykes  run  ter  de  bird  an'  give  hit  er  nut 

[15] 


|j|  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  -g| 

an'  sorter  shoo  hit  erlong  de  rail.  An'  dere  he 
sot.  'Bout  dat  time  de  bird  look  at  me  an'  say, 
'Git  out,  nigger!'  " 

The  children  clapped  their  hands  and 
screamed,  and  Isam  wagged  his  head. 

"I  begin  ter  hunt  roun'  erbout  for  de  care- 
edge,  when  Marse  Craffud  mek  me  come  back. 
I  drap  down  erg'in  on  de  step,  wid  my  mouf 
lef  open  an'  my  eye  sot  on  dat  bird.  I  heah 
Marse  Craffud  say  as  how  hit  was  er  fine  bird, 
an'  he  seen  'em  befo'  in  Mexico;  an'  I  knowed 
den  't  was  de  same  he  been  talkin'  erbout  so 
much.  Wid  dat,  an'  de  sun  er-shinin'  on  my 
bar'  head,  de  scalp  sorter  begin  ter  tek  on  er 
little  life.  Den  ole  Mis'  Sykes  say,  oom-hoo! 
dat's  what  de  matter.  She  done  got  her  three 
little  gran'-daughters  stayin'  in  de  house,  an' 
de  bird  cuss  an'  swear  an'  talk  so  much  bad- 
ness she  cyan't  have  hit  roun',  an'  don't  know 
des  what  she  goin'  ter  do.  Marse  Craffud  tell 
her  ter  wring  its  neck,  but  she  throw  up  'er 
han's  so," — Isam  gave  a  comical  imitation, 


Jj|  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

much  to  the  delight  of  the  children, — "an'  say 
de  bird  belongs  ter  her  nephew,  Mr.  Jim 
Sykes,  who  been  had  'er  in  Galveston  fo'  years 
an'  he  thinks  de  worl'  of  'er.  Mr.  Jim  say  de 
bird  is  one  of  de  queens  of  de  yearth,  but  ole 
Mis'  Sykes  say  she  don't  see  whar  de  queen 
comes  in — dat  she  believes  de  bird  is  one  of 
dem  Mexican  rebelutioners,  an'  dat  she's 
powerful  pestered  ter  think  she  done  got 
mixed  up  wid  hit,  an'  mus'  stay  mixed  up  tell 
Mr.  Jim  gets  back  f  'om  whar  he  gone.  Marse 
Craffud  up  an'  say:  Why  'n't  you  sen'  hit  out 
ter  de  quarters,  madam,  an'  let  de  niggers  tek 
cyar  of  hit?'  But  Mis'  Sykes  say,  no;  she 
done  try  dat  'speriment  de  day  befo',  an'  ef 
she  hadn't  stop  putty  quick,  wouldn't  been  nair 
nigger  lef  on  de  place.  She  say  Ole  Nelse, 
de  driver,  tell  her  dat  de  bird  talk  ter  cats  an' 
dogs  an'  chickens  in  dey  own  languidge  tell  es 
ha'r  rise  on  es  head.  An'  at  night  big  owl 
come  up  in  de  cedar,  roll  es  eyes,  an'  say: 
'Whoo!  whoo!  whoo!'  ter  de  parrot,  an'  de 

[17] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

parrot  up  an'  flung  back  cuss-words  an'  brash 
talk  till  de  clock  struck  twelve  an'  de  moon 
dodge  unner  er  cloud.  Ole  Nelse  is  er  per- 
sidin'  elder,  an'  he  say  as  how  he  been  tole  in 
es  sleep  dat  dis  was  de  painted  Jessebel  what 
de  sojers  flung  out  er  de  winder,  come  back  on 
de  yearth  ter  temp'  de  soul  of  man;  an'  dat 
settle  hit.  Dey  brought  de  bird  back  in  er 
cotton-basket  covered  wid  er  bag  an'  slung  on 
er  fence-rail  'twix'  two  niggers,  de  fus  nigger 
sweatin'  like  er  July  mule,  'cause  es  back  was 
nex'  ter  de  basket  an'  er-burnin'  wid  onnatchul 
fire." 

"What  did  the  owl  say,  Unc'  Isam?"  asked 
one  of  the  delighted  girls,  while  the  smiling 
old  man  was  drawing  a  bucket  of  clean  water 
from  the  faucet. 

"  'Whoo!  whoo!  whoo!'  You  see,  honey, 
he  ain't  never  seen  nothin'  like  dat  bird  in  all 
es  born  days.  He  seen  de  blue  jay,  de  red- 
bird,  de  robin,  de  sparrer-hawk,  de  game 
rooster,  an'  de  peafowl;  but  dis  hyah  was  er 
[18] 


jH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

noo  one  on  him.  Look  like  de  whole  bird 
crowd  been  rolled  inter  one,  an'  got  es  nose 
mash  down  over  es  chin  ter  boot.  De  owl  was 
des  natchully  tryin'  ter  strike  up  er  'quaintance 
an'  pass  de  time  o'  day." 

"What  did  the  parrot  say,  Unc'  Isam?" 

"  'Carrajo — corambo — bonum — noctum — 
oh,  sister!'  an',  'Git  out,  nigger!'  Leastwise, 
dat's  what  he  say  when  I  got  nex'  ter  'er  in  de 
night;  an'  more  besides.  But,  pshaw!  hit  ain't 
fit  for  you  chillun  to  heah  'bout.  Dat's  des  de 
reason  why  ole  Mis'  Sykes  tryin'  ter  git  shet 
of  'er.  Whar  was  I  in  dis  story,  anyhow?" 

"They  were  bringing  the  bird  back  in  the 
basket,"  shouted  the  children. 

uOom-hoo,  das  right.  Well,  Marse  Craffud 
sot  up  in  es  chair  an'  cover  es  mouf  wid  es 
han'k'ch'ef,  an'  say:  'Madam,  you  int'rest  me 
mightily.  De  case  is  an  oncommon  one.'  Ole 
Mis'  Sykes  'low  dat  hit  sholy  was.  She  say 
dat  de  bird  out-talk  her  ole  French  teacher  an* 
out-cuss  er  Spaniard  pirate.  An'  she  go  on  an' 

[19] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

tell  how  de  bird  work  erlong  de  fence  ter  de 
oak  whar  de  pet  squir'l  come  up  f  'om  de  grove 
an'  scyard  'im  so  wid  er  adj'tive  when  he  was 
peepin'  roun'  de  limb  whar  she  sot,  dat  little 
bushy-tail  fell  forty  foot  ter  de  groun',  an'  put 
out  for  es  hole  like  de  devil  was  reachin'  for 
him." 

A  shout  from  the  children  gave  the  racon- 
teur encouragement.    He  continued: 

"You  can  laugh;  Marse  Craffud  wanted  ter 
laugh,  too,  but  he  had  ter  set  dere  an'  swell  up 
like  er  frog,  while  ole  Mis'  Sykes  beat  erbout 
an'  'splain  how  de  bird  got  ter  de  chick'n- 
house  at  las',  an'  took  up  wid  de  crowd  at 
night  for  company;  an'  how  she  quar'led  wid 
de  rooster  tell  he  'mos'  lef  off  crowin'  in  de 
night.  Ole  Mis'  Sykes  say  de  trouble  on  her 
min'  is  dis :  she  cyan't  let  de  chillun  heah  sech 
talk,  not  even  f'om  er  bird,  an'  she  cyan't 
'spose  of  Mr.  Jim's  pet;  an'  dere  you  are! 

"Weil,  sah,"  continued  Isam,  addressing 
everybody   in   general,    "Marse    Craffud  sot 

[20] 


|g  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

dere  an'  'bout  ter  'splode,  but  he  look  like  de 
head  mo'ner  at  er  funerul.  Bimeby  he  up  an' 
say  't  is  sholy  a  bad  case,  an'  how  can  he  serve 
'er  in  'er  great  trouble.  Well,  chillun,  de  ole 
lady  been  waitin'  fer  de  openin',  an'  she  step 
right  in.  She  say  as  how  she  unnerstan'  dat 
Miss  Helen  an'  de  little  boy  was  off  ter  Ma- 
con, an'  mebbe  de  major  would  tek  de  bird 
for  er  while ;  dat  cussin'  warn't  no  noo  thing 
over  hyah,  an'  wouldn't  hurt  nobody.  Ole 
Mis'  Sykes  try  ter  be  funny  wid  Marse  Craf- 
fud,  an'  tell  him  mebbe  he  would  like  some 
company  b'sides  es  own,  an'  mebbe  he  could 
git  some  noo  cuss-words,  too.  Well,  I  tek  my 
eye  off  de  bird,  an'  look  back  for  somep'n'  ter 
happen,  an'  hit  did.  Marse  Craffud  sot  up 
straight,  an'  fix  es  eye  on  de  ole  lady.  I  ain't 
goin'  ter  tell  you  what  he  say,  'cause  he  was 
hot  in  de  collar  an'  powerful  aggervated;  but 
ole  Mis'  Sykes  clap  her  hands  ter  her  head  an' 
scream  out:  'Oh,  major,  Major  Worthing- 
ton,  you  shock  me!' 

[21] 


II  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

"  'Bout  dis  time  I  like  ter  jump  out  er  my 
skin,  for  de  bird  raise  'er  wings  an'  give  er 
yell  what  start  like  er  peafowl  an'  quit  like 
er  holy  laugh.  Den  she  say,  sorter  dancin' 
roun'  on  de  rail  an'  talkin'  th'ough  'er  nose, 
Tour  water  on  'im!  Burn  es  foot!  He's 
swearin'!'  an'  follered  it  up  with  forty-'leven 
kinds  of  cussin'.  An'  dere  sot  Marse  Craffud, 
puffin'  an'  er-poppin'  es  eyes. 

"  'Young  'oman,'  he  say,  des  so,  'young 
'oman,  wait  tell  /  get  you  home !' 

uBut  hit  did  n'  scyar  dat  bird,  'cause  she 
ain't  never  met  Marse  Craffud  befo'.  She  des 
cake-walk  erwhile,  an'  den  stop  an'  cock  up 
fus  one  eye  an'  de  yuther  like  she  all  of  er  sud- 
den gittin'  int'rested  in  es  case.  'Sister,'  she 
say  to  ole  Mis'  Sykes,  'who  is  de  fat  man?' 
Den  she  had  ter  dodge  Marse  Craffud's  stick, 
what  he  flung,  an'  while  I  was  er-fetchin'  hit 
f'om  de  yard  she  was  er-edgin'  erlong  de  rail, 
sayin',  'Oh,  my!  oh,  my!  what  a  naughty, 
naughty  boy !   Put  'im  out !  put  'im  out !'  " 

[22] 


Jj!  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

By  this  time,  as  may  be  supposed,  the  chil- 
dren were  hilarious,  and  the  older  group 
greatly  amused.  The  major  smoked  in  silence, 
looking  off  across  the  fields.  Isam  took  occa- 
sion to  return  to  the  side  of  the  coach  from 
which  he  had  started,  opening  the  door  and 
letting  down  the  steps  for  the  children,  who 
crossed  over  tumultuously. 

"Dere,  now,  chillun,  des  keep  yo'  mouf  shet 
an'  you  won't  git  no  soap-suds  in  hit.  Whar 
was  I  in  dis  hyah  'sperience,  anyhow  ?"  he 
said. 

'Tolly  was  telling  her  to  put  him  out,"  said 
Helen's  little  boy. 

"Oom-hoo!  Well,  Marse  Craffud  c'ntrol 
esse'f,  an'  say  he  don't  blame  Mis'  Sykes  er 
bit,  an'  de  bird  ain't  fit  company  fer  no  lady 
much  less  de  chillun,  an'  he'd  tek  'er  off  'er 
han's  wid  pleasure.  He  say  he  reck'n  he  will 
'joy  de  company  of  so  smart  er  bird,  an'  he 
promise  'er  he  ain'  goin'  ter  let  nothin'  happen 
ter  'er,  an'  when  shall  he  tek  'er. 

[233 


•jH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

uDen  Mis'  Sykes  say  dey  done  reach  er- 
nuther  trouble.  De  chillun  done  got  so  'tached 
ter  de  bird  hit  would  bre'k  dey  hearts  ef  dey 
thought  she'd  give  'er  erway,  an'  'fo'  dey  eyes. 
Ef  somebody  could  come  over  in  de  night  an' 
sorter  pertend  ter  steal  de  bird,  she'd  have 
somep'n'  ter  go  on  nex'  day.  De  stealin' 
would  be  easy,  she  say,  'cause  de  bird  roos'  in 
de  little  hen-house,  like  I  tole  you;  an'  dere 
warn't  no  dog  an'  nair  nigger  nigher  'n  de 
quarters.  Marse  Craffud  catch  de  p'int  quick, 
an'  laugh  er  little.  He  say :  'All  right,  madam ; 
I  think  de  plan  er  mighty  good  one.  I'll  sen' 
Isam  over  erbout  nine  ter-night,  or  mebbe 
later.' 

11  'Who?  Me?'  says  I,  wakin'  up.  'Who? 
MeV  says  I,  erg'in. 

"  'Yes,'  says  he,  'youl' 

"I  look  up  at  Marse  Craffud  an'  quit  talk- 
in'  ;  but  I  walk  erroun'  dat  bird,  an'  look  at  'er 
f'om  head  ter  foot,  an'  dere  warn't  no  way  I 
can  get  whar  she  ain't  er-facin'.  'Honey,'  says 

[24] 


II  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

I,  'mebbe  I'll  be  'long  atter  you  'bout  nine,  an' 
mebbe  I'll  be  'long  erbout  ten;  hit  'pends  on 
how  I'm  er-feelin'  ter-night.' 

"Marse  Craffud  an'  ole  Mis'  Sykes  was  up 
an'  er-sasshayin'  erroun'  one  ernuther  an' 
passin'  compliments.  I  pick  up  a  little  stick 
'bout  big  as  my  finger  an'  lay  hit  'cross  de 
bird's  mouf,  which  she  was  er-holdin'  open 
while  rearin'  back  f'om  me.  De  mouf  shet, 
an'  de  stick  drap  down  in  two  pieces. 

"  'Git  out,  nigger!'  says  she. 

11  'Das  des  'zactly  what  I'm  er-aimin'  ter  s 
do,  honey,'  says  I.  'Mebbe,  I  might  not  come 
erlong  back  befo'  ten  an'  er  ha'f ;  but  lemme 
tell  you,  when  I  do  come,  you  look  close,  an' 
you  goin'  ter  see  more  hyah  den  me.'  An'  dere 
I  lef  'er. 

"Marse  Craffud  look  out  of  care-edge  win- 
der an'  say,  'Madam,  yo'  mos'  obedient!'  an' 
de  bird  drap  one  of  'er  rainbow  wings  down 
erbout  er  foot  an'  er  ha'f,  stretch  'er  leg  unner 
it,  give  er  long  gape,  an'  say,  'Sister,  I  foun'  it, 

[25] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

but  you  c'n  play  with  't.'  'Spec'  you  chillun 
tired  hearin'  Isam  ramble  'long  'bout  dis  hyah 
ole  parrot?" 

"Oh,  no,  Unc'  Isam !  Did  you  go  back  'for 
her?  Please  tell  us  some  more  !"  The  air  was 
full  of  voices. 

"Well,"  said  the  old  man,  holding  up  his 
hands,  "I  an't  said  I  warn't  goin'  ter  tell  yer. 
Hit's  des  er  way  I  got,  an'  hit  gimme  time  ter 
ketch  er  bref.   Whar  was  I?" 

"You  had  just  left  old  Mrs.  Sykes,"  ex- 
claimed a  voice. 

"Oom-hoo  !  Well,  Marse  Craffud  insist  on 
me  trav'lin'  'long  back  for  de  Mexican  bird, 
an'  I  b'gin  ter  steddy  erbout  hit.  When  I  seen 
dat  bird  lop  off  de  stick  wid  'er  mouf  what 
look  like  er  flower-shears,  an'  hit  come  ter  me 
dat  I  got  ter  feel  roun'  in  dat  hen-house  for 
'er,  an'  in  de  dark,  I  knowed  I  mus'  have  help. 
So  while  Marse  Craffud  was  er-noddin'  up 
dere  in  de  po'ch  erbout  sundown,  I  go  over 
yonner.    I  don't  reck'n  nair  one  er  you  chillun 

[26] 


]H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

ever  met  wid  er  nigger  by  de  name  of  Sandy 
Cornelius.  Ter  be  sho,  you  ain't;  hit's  been  fo' 
years  ago.  Sandy  was  hyah  f 'om  de  Shoulder- 
bone  deestric'  in  Hancock,  er-raisin'  of  some 
money  ter  buil'  er  frame  chu'ch  fer  Macedony 
— leastwise,  dat's  what  he  say.  Er  regular 
back'oods  nigger,  an'  aggervatin' !  Lord ! 
Lord !  but  des  ter  heah  dat  nigger  say  'Deah 
brother'  was  'nough  ter  mek  er  man  drap  es 
han'  on  es  hip  or  look  roun'  for  er  ax.  Sandy 
Cornelius  I"  Isam's  contempt  was  apparent 
but  absolutely  indescribable. 

"Sandy,"  said  the  major  to  the  ladies,  as  he 
reloaded  his  pipe,  "was  paying  special  atten- 
tion to  a  friend  of  Isam's  named  'Cindy." 

uAn'  dat's  er  fac',"  said  Isam;  "but  'Cindy 
ain't  so  much  as  look  at  'im  twicst.  Well,  in 
my  perdicerment  'bout  fetchin'  dat  bird,  I 
hunt  up  Sandy.  I  know  dat  'bout  dat  time  he'd 
be  ready  for  er  chanst  ter  d'stinguish  esse'f 
wid  er  present  ter  'Cindy;  an'  de  devil  went 
erlong  wid  me  ter  find  'im.   We  foun'  'im,  an' 

[27] 


j||        the  adventures  of  a  parrot        Jj| 

me  an'  him  had  er  talk,  wid  de  devil  lookin' 
on  an'  sayin'  nothin'.  I  tell  dat  nigger  dat 
Marse  Craffud  done  specialize  him  an'  me  for 
some  work  he  could  n'  trus'  nobody  else  wid. 
I  'splain  as  how  ole  Mis'  Sykes  had  er  Mexi- 
can game  rooster  she  want  ter  git  shet  of  de 
worse  in  de  worl',  but  dat  de  chillun  was  so 
sot  on  'im  we  mus'  come  an'  git  'im  atter  dark, 
so  she  could  sorter  mek  believe  somebody 
done  stole  'im.  I  'splain  ter  de  nigger  dat  de 
Mexican  games  was  so  pow'ful  mean  dey  had 
ter  cut  de  spurs  off  of  'em  ter  give  de  yuther 
chickens  er  chanst  ter  live,  an'  dat  dey  was 
'bout  as  good  at  bitin'  as  kickin'.  He  tuk  it 
all  in  like  er  catfish  swaller'in  er  worm.  He 
was  one  er  dese  hyah  know-ev'ything  niggers. 
'Dey  tells  me,'  he  say,  'dere  is  er  game  chick'n 
down  yonner  in  Cheecago,  which  is  de  capital 
of  South  Afferky,  dat  when  he  fights  des  lifts 
er  common  chick'n  off  er  de  groun'  by  de  back 
of  es  neck,  an'  sticks  'im  full  er  holes  wid  fus 
one  foot  an'  den  de  yuther.'   'Oom-hoo!'  says 

[28] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

I,  'dat's  de  ve'y  same  Mexican  game  !  Marse 
Craffud  an'  me  is  er-layin'  out  ter  git  de  breed 
an'  wipe  out  de  Shawlnecks  down-town  what 
put  us  out  er  business  'bout  fo'  years  ago.' 
'Well/  says  Sandy,  'I  don't  mind  goin'  erlong, 
seein'  as  how  hit  ain't  sho-'nough  stealin' — an' 
dey  ain't  no  dog !  But  dere's  er  meetin'  erlong 
de  way  at  Smyrny  Chu'ch.  An',  besides,  whar 
does  I  come  in?'  says  he. 

"Now  dat's  de  fus  ques'ion  you  get  f'om  er 
nigger,  an'  I  was  er-layin'  for  'im.  'De  Bible,' 
says  I,  '  'lows  dat  de  laborer  is  worthy  of  es 
hire,  an'  ole  Mis'  Sykes  mus'  n't  'spec'  ter  git 
'er  work  done  free.  I'm  goin'  ter  hoi'  de 
chick'n-house  do'  for  you,'  says  I,  'an'  ef  you 
happ'n  ter  drap  erbout  fo'  hens  in  de  bag  er- 
long wid  de  Mexican  ter  keep  'im  company, 
dere  ain't  goin'  ter  be  no  witness.  An'  I  heah 
'Cindy  say  yestiddy  dat  she  des  er-honin'  an' 
er-honin'  for  fresh  meat.'  Dat  hit  'im,  an'  he 
stop  ter  steddy.  'How  I  goin'  ter  find  dis 
Mexican  game  in  de'dark?'  he  inquire.   'Ain't 

[  29] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

no  trouble  'bout  dat,'  I  say.  'He  got  er  tail 
two  foot  long.  Des  feel  'long  unner  de  roos' 
tell  you  strike  dat  tail,  an'  den  let  yo'  han' 
travel  up  ter  es  two  legs  whar  de  spurs  been 
trim  off;  an'  den  drap  'im  in  de  bag.  An', 
nigger,'  says  I,  'don't  you  hurt  dat  bird,  or  let 
'im  holler  an'  wake  de  chillun !  Tek  'im  quick 
by  es  foot  an'  neck,  an'  drap  'im  in  de  bag.' 
Sandy  steddy  some  more,  an'  inquire  'bout  de 
dog.  Bimeby  he  say,  all  right;  he  go  'long  ter 
keep  me  company.  I  got  er  bag  wid  er  draw- 
string in  de  top,  an'  'bout  time  de  moon  rise  we 
put  out  for  ole  Mis'  Sykes'.  When  we  come 
ter  Smyrny,  Unc'  Rich'  was  des  er-linin'  out 
de  secon'  verse  of  de  hyme, 

Travel  on,  travel  on, 
We'll  all  travel  on. 

uBut  hit  look  like  I  warn't  goin'  ter  git 
Sandy  ter  travel  on  pas'  dat  do'.  'Come  on, 
nigger!'  says  I,  des  so.  'Come  on!  We  ain' 
goin'  ter  be  long  er-gittift'  back.    'Cindy  ain' 

[30] 


H  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

in  dere  yit,  or  you'd  done  heah  her  putty  voice 
lifted  in  praise.'  De  soun'  er  de  gal's  name 
start  'im  ter  thinkin'  'bout  hens,  an'  es  foot  got 
light  erg'in.  We  come  erlong,  putty  soon,  by 
Smyrny  buryin'-groun',  an'  he  pull  up  an'  say, 
'Hush!  You  gwine  thoo  dat  place?'  'Oom- 
hoo!  honey,'  says  I,  'an'  now  you  know  des 
why  I  fotch  yer  erlong.  Dere  ain'  nothin' 
goin'  ter  bother  nobody  in  er  buryin'-groun',' 
says  I,  'but  yer  feel  mo'  sut'n  erbout  hit  when 
yer  travelin'  wid  company.'  'How  far  we  got 
ter  go  ter  git  erroun'  ?'  says  he.  'Well,'  says  I, 
'erbout  er  mile.'  'Is  dat  all?'  says  Sandy.  An' 
he  struck  out  up  de  big  road,  wid  me  er- 
treadin'  on  es  heels. 

"De  moon  hit  was  high  when  we  got  ter  ole 
Mis'  Sykes',"  continued  Isam,  "an'  de  big 
house  was  plumb  dark.  De  little  hen-house 
do'  slides  up  an'  down  in  er  groove,  an'  I  hoi' 
hit  up  an'  sen'  Sandy  in  wid  de  bag  hangin' 
roun'  es  neck.  Putty  soon  I  heah  er  flutter,  an' 
I  say,  'One  hen!'   Den  I  heah  ernuther  flutter 

[31] 


U|  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

— Two  hen!'  Den  I  heah  ernuther  flutter, 
an'  I  say,  'Three  hen!'  Den  I  heah  ernuther 
flutter,  an'  I  say,  To'  hen!'  'Bout  de  time  I 
was  er-gittin'  ready  ter  try  an'  save  ernough 
hen  fer  ole  Mis'  Sykes  ter  start  business  wid 
erg'in,  dere  come  er  mighty  rustle  an'  er  splut- 
teration,  an'  I  heah  Sandy  cuss.  All  of  er  sud- 
den er  voice  f  om  somewhar  hollered:  'Help  ! 
Murder !  Whyn't  yer  crow?  Let  me  out,  nig- 
ger !  Let  me  out !'  I  fell  back,  an'  down  drap 
de  do',  an',  chillun,  I  heah  Sandy  inside  say, 
wid  er  trimble  in  es  voice  : 

"  'Who  dat  talkin'  ter — ter — ter — me?' 

uDe  voice  in  dere  come  erg'in:  'Help! 
Help !  Let  me  out,  nigger !  Let  me  out,  nig- 
ger!' 

"I  could  des  heah  Sandy  feelin'  roun'  inside, 
his  finger-nails  er-huntin'  cracks,  an'  he  up  an' 
say  er  little  louder : 

"  'Wait  er  minute,  honey,  whoever  yer  is! 
Wait  er  minute,  an'  I  gwine  ter  let  us  all  out !' 

"De  voice  holler  louder  an'  louder: 

[32] 


jH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

"Murder!  Murder!  Burn  es  foot!  Po' 
water  on  'im !'  An7  mebbe  de  parrot  he  sorter 
pinch  de  nigger's  leg  thoo  de  bag  wid  es 
flower-shears — I  dunno;  but  de  nex'  thing  I 
do  know,  Sandy  give  er  yell  like  de  devil  had 
'im,  an'  come  erg'inst  de  side  of  de  chick'n- 
house  so  hard  he  knock  down  de  whole  busi- 
ness on  top  er  me.  Time  I  scramble  out  he 
was  gone  er-rackin'  up  de  road  ter  beat  de 
ban',  de  bird  er-cussin'  at  ev'y  jump.  Well, 
sah,"  continued  Isam,  when  the  children  were 
through  with  their  laugh,  '"I  begin  ter  git 
skeered  merse'f.  I  say,  ef  dat  nigger  ain't 
headed  off  by  somebody,  he  goin'  ter  bus'  dat 
fool  bird's  brains  out  erg'inst  somep'n',  er 
fling  'er  clean  erway.  But,  pshaw !  dat  string 
done  slip  up  roun'  Sandy's  neck,  an'  de  mo'  he 
pull  de  tighter  hit  git,  tell  he  was  mighty  nigh 
choke  down.  I  sighted  'im  des  as  he  struck 
de  cemetery  an'  lodge  in  de  wire  fence,  er- 
fightin'  an'  er-pantin'.  'Bout  time  I  got  dere 
he  bre'k  loose,  an'  I  seen  'im  run  sprang  bang 

[33] 


HI  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  J| 

inter  de  white  rock  angel — de  ole  man  wid  er 
cyarved  grass-hook  'twix'  es  knees  what  sets 
on  top  er  ole  man  Toby's  grave.  Well,  sah, 
what  wid  dat,  an'  de  bird  inside  de  bag  holler- 
in'  'Murder!  Stop,  nigger  !'  an'  mixin'  up  er 
lot  o'  Mexican  talk,  de  nigger  fa'rly  lep  er 
hunderd  yard.  I  des  heah  'im  say,  'Leg,  save 
de  body,'  an'  yonner  he  go.  I'm  er  putty  good 
mover  in  de  night  merse'f,"  said  Isam,  look- 
ing round  on  his  audience,  uan'  mo'  expecial 
ef  er  man  es  tryin'  ter  lef  me  in  er  buryin'- 
groun' ;  so  I  drap  mer  foot  erlong  in  es  tracks 
fas'  ernough  ter  keep  mer  eye  on  'im.  An' 
den  I  seen  he  was  er-headin'  for  Smyrny 
Chu'ch.  When  he  struck  de  road  he  turn  inter 
hit,  but  I  kep'  de  paf,  an'  we  git  ter  de  chu'ch 
'bout  same  time.  Lord,  Lord!  Den  we  had 
hit — den  we  had  hit !" 

"Had  what,  Unc'  Isam?"  asked  the  oldest 
boy,  eagerly. 

UI  dunno  what  yer  call  hit,  but  we  sholy 
had  hit.   I  lean  up  'g'inst  de  do'  fer  ter  ketch 

[34] 


II  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  Jj| 

mer  wind,  an'  Sandy  run  down  de  aisle  ter  de 
mo'ners'  bench  by  de  pulpit,  tore  at  de  string 
roun'  es  neck,  an'  drap  down  in  er  heap,  puf- 
fec'ly  pluralize  an'  proselyte  on  de  flo'.  Ole 
Unc'  Rich'  was  in  de  ac'  of  prayin'  for  grace, 
and'  some  er  de  sisters  was  des  startin'  ter 
rock  an'  moan,  when  dey  see  de  nigger  Sandy, 
all  mix  up  wid  de  bag,  roll  over  on  de  flo'  like 
er  man  possess  of  er  sperrit.  Dey  jump  up, 
crane  deir  necks  ter  look,  an'  'bout  dat  time 
somep'n'  in  de  bag  squirm  an'  begin  ter  yell 
like  er  man  in  er  cellar:  'Murder!  Help! 
Carrajo — corambo — bonum — noctum !  Oh, 
Jim!  Let  me  out,  nigger!'  an'  ter  spit  out  all 
kind  o'  scand'lous  cuss-words.  Somebody's 
girl  let  fly  er  scream  loud  ernough  ter  split  er 
plank,  an'  dat  settle  hit!" 

Isam  threw  down  his  sponge  and  leaned  up 
against  the  carriage,  wagging  his  head,  his 
face  twisted  into  laughter-wrinkles. 

"Dat  do  settle  hit.  Ole  Unc'  Rich'  fall 
back'ds  f 'om  de  pulpit  th'ough  de  winder,  an' 

[35] 


sag 

m 

hit  de  groun'  er-runnin'.  De  niggers  inside 
dey  fall  over  one  ernuther  an'  me,  an'  fight 
for  de  do'  tell  dey  'mos'  tromple  what  little 
win'  I  had  lef  plumb  outer  me.  What  wid 
dey  yellin'  an'  er-whoopin'  an'  er-breakin' 
down  de  benches,  hit  was  ernough  ter  raise 
er  dead  man.  But  hit  did  n'  raise  Sandy.  Did 
n'  nothin'  raise  'im  tell  I  cut  dat  sack  loose  an' 
sot  'im  up.  He  took  er  bref  er  two,  an'  one 
mo'  look  at  de.  squirm  in  de  bag,  an'  was  gone. 
De  niggers  dey  seen  'im  comin'  up  de  road,  an' 
dey  led  'im  er  race  ter  de  quarters,  whar  ev'ry 
do'  was  barred.  Dey  do  say  dat  at  twelve 
o'clock  nex'  day  dat  nigger  done  reach  es 
home  on  de  far  side  er  Hancock,  forty  miles 
f'om  Smyrny !" 

A  happy  smile  fluttered  over  the  old  negro's 
face  when  the  laughter  and  applause  of  his 
audience  had  subsided,  to  be  suddenly  chased 
away  by  mock-seriousness,  as  a  little  boy  put 
the  question : 

1 36] 


Jl  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

uWhat  became  of  the  parrot  and  the  hens, 
Unc'  Isam?" 

"Now  des  listen  at  dat!  Chile,  anybody'd 
know  yo'  pa  was  one  er  de  bes'  lawyers  in  de 
Ian',  des  watchin'  you.  Don't  never  lose  sight 
er  nothin' !  Well,  I  fotched  de  bag  erlong 
back  ter  Marse  Craffud,  an'  Marse  Craffud 
up  an'  say  we  mus'  keep  de  business  quiet, 
'cause  dere  ain't  nair  nigger  in  dis  settlement 
ever  goin'  inter  er  hen-house  atter  dark  f'om 
now  on;  an'  some  er  dis  'sperience  boun'  ter 
leak  out  an'  spread  roun'.  An'  we  kept  our 
end  quiet,  for  Mr.  Jim  Sykes  got  back  onex- 
pected  de  ve'y  nex'  day,  an'  come  er-bilin'  over 
ter  git  es  bird.  Marse  Craffud  was  mighty 
glad  ter  git  shet  of  'er.  But  de  story  of  what 
happen  in  dat  chu'ch — Lord!  Lord!  but  hit's 
still  er-growin' !  Dey  warn't  er  nigger  dere 
but  smell  sulphur;  an'  Unc'  Rich'  'lows  he  seed 
er  fiery  han'  reach  out  f'om  de  bag  an'  ketch 
Sandy  by  de  neck.  Aunt  'Mandy  say  when  she 
look  back  f'om  up  de  road,  she  seed  somep'n' 

[37] 


jH  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PARROT  |j| 

spoutV  fire  f  om  es  eyes  an'  nose  an'  mouf 
tearin'  back  ter  git  in  de  cemetery." 

"What  became  of  the  hens,  Unc'  Isam?" 
persisted  the  little  boy. 

The  old  man  studied  gravely  the  face  of  his 
questioner. 

"Honey,  when  you  done  growed  up  ter  be 
er  jedge  on  de  bench,  too,  dere  am'  no  nigger 
in  dis  county  goin'  ter  be  able  ter  keep  esse'f 
outside  er  de  rock-pile !" 

"What  became  of  the  hens?" 

"Well,  chile,  de  hens  was  des  so  natchully 
bruise  up  an'  'turbed  en  sperrit  dey  warn't  no 
good  for  nothin'.  I  let  'Cindy  have  'em  ter 
git  some  feathers  for  er  piller  she  er-makin\" 

The  major  coughed  violently,  and  his  pipe 
shot  a  shower  of  sparks  into  the  air. 


Books  by  <lMt.  8dwards 

"Two  Runaways"  and  other  stories $1.75 

"His  Defense"  and  other  stories 1.75 

"The  Marbeau  Cousins,"  12  mo.  cloth 1.50 

"Eneas  Africanus,"  new  edition,  paper .50 

"Eneas  Africanus,"  new  edition,  board .75 

"Eneas  Africanus,"  new  edition  illustrated 1.00 

"Eneas  Africanus,"  flexible  ooze  leather 2.00 

"Eneas,"  new  edition,  illustrated,  ooze 2.50 

"Just  Sweethearts,"  paper  bound___ .50 

"Just  Sweethearts,"  Christmas  bound 1.00 

"Just  Sweethearts,"  ooze  calf 2.00 

"How  Sal  Came  Through" .50 

"Brother  Sims's  Mistake" .50 

"Isam's   Spectacles" .50 

"The  Adventures  of  a  Parrot" .50 

"Shadow" — A  Christmas  Story .50 

"The  Vulture  and  His  Shadow" .50 

The  demand  for  "Eneas"  and  other  books  of  Mr. 
Edwards  is  so  great  that  we  believe  his  friends  will 
appreciate  our  bringing  out  these  additional  gems  of 
the  Old  South,  the  old-time  negro  and  his  old-time 
"white  folks." 

All  of  these  will  not  be  ready  at  the  same  time,  but 
orders  will  be  filled  as  rapidly  as  the  books  are  off  the 
press,  and  we  will  appreciate  advance  orders. 

Postpaid  to  any  address 
THE  J.  W.  BURKE  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 

MACON,  GEORGIA 


